Zendia retrieved a quill and ink from his bag as he said, "Write down the names of your friend and his father. That way, you’ll know them if you ever come back one day."

Caesar shook his head. "I don't know how… to write.”

Zendia was flustered by this. His grandchildren, Denburg and Hestia, not only knew how to write but were fluent in several foreign languages as well.

As he recalled his children and his eldest grandson, Zendia nodded. In recent years, he had become accustomed to his youngest grandson and eldest granddaughter, but Caesar wasn’t the outlier here.

Zendia put away the quill and ink that he’d just taken out. "I'll write them for you, so you can just tell me."

Caesar told him their names, and Zendia unsheathed a sword from his waist and swung it. Then, their names were engraved on the gravestone in elegant writing.

Caesar admired and touched the gravestone lightly. So they really are dead.

Seeing the large burial mound behind the gravestone caused complicated feelings to arise.

"What will happen to me… now?"

Caesar was worried about his situation. When the village was intact, even though he was a black sheep, he...